


Fading Grace, Fading Soul

by wannaliveindeansdimples



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angelic Grace, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Demon Dean, Demon Dean Winchester, Heavy Angst, Human Castiel, M/M, Minor Character Death, Minor Original Character(s), Post-Canon, after season 9
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-07
Updated: 2014-09-07
Packaged: 2018-02-16 11:06:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2267409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wannaliveindeansdimples/pseuds/wannaliveindeansdimples
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Metatron tells Cas that Dean is dead and he believes it. Sam believes it, too. When Sam finds Dean's body missing, he calls on Cas for help. Then Dean shows up and they learn the ugly truth. Dean didn't believe he deserved to be saved from hell. But he doesn't <em>want</em> to be saved from the Mark of Cain. Cas has to deal with the evil, the redeemed and the hopeless before he gets what he needs to help Dean. Will it be enough?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>  <em>Written post-Season 9 finale, but pre-Season 10 preview.</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	Fading Grace, Fading Soul

**Author's Note:**

> This is my fic for dealing with the large amount of feels I was left with post-finale. I had such emotions over Dean turning demon because what I love most about Dean is his core goodness (despite its multilayered wrapper of bad choices). So his becoming a demon hurt my heart for obvious reasons.
> 
> Mostly canon-compliant through the end of Season 9, though liberties have been taken with some lore & power/abilities of certain characters. 
> 
> My beta is angry with me for making her edit this (she had even more ssn 9 finale feels than I did).
> 
> This story is smut-free.

Castiel had been around for millennia. He had watched humanity in fascination for much of that time, but he never got involved. He didn’t watch their movies or read their books as so many angels did. He didn’t get attached to them and their short lives. He watched them as a human might watch a family of sea monkeys. Fascinated, but detached.

Then came the mission: Retrieve Dean Winchester from Hell. Take his soul, rebuild his body.

It changed everything.

Here was a man to whom Castiel easily became attached. He never did what was expected. He gave everything for people who might never even know his deeds. He loved his brother unconditionally and cared more about his brother’s life than his own. He cared about _most_ people’s lives more than his own. He always did what he thought was right, no matter the personal cost to himself.

What’s more, this creature Dean seemed to understand Castiel, too. The desire to obey they had learned from their fathers and the need for free will learned from the same source. He knew what it was to be forced into roles for which you weren’t ready. He knew what it was to feel broken, to feel disconnected, to feel alone.

Then Cas had made the wrong choice, hurt Dean. Since then, he’d been God, he’d been possessed by Leviathan, he’d been crazy, he’d been mind-controlled. And finally - when he’d made the wrong choice yet again - he’d been human. Now he was an angel with a fading, stolen grace. When it burned out, he would die.

Hannah had acted as though he should be concerned about that, but why? Did it really matter? Metatron had killed the one thing he loved. The one man, amongst the trillions who had lived and died on this planet, that had taught Cas to _feel_. What use was there of being alive when he hadn’t saved the one man he’d given up Heaven and an army for?

Castiel sat behind the wheel of his car, not yet driving. He couldn’t face the bunker yet, though he knew Sam would likely welcome him. Instead, he sat there and let the oh-so-human tears fall. Dean was gone. With Metatron still refusing to undo the spell, leaving only a small segment of Heaven open, Dean wasn’t even in Heaven, but instead stuck inside the veil.

Cas wept for the angel he had once been, for the man he had known and loved. He wept for all that they would never have now. They’d had little enough chance as it was, but at least he’d been able to see him, smell him, hear his laughter - though it had been less frequent these last months. He’d even gotten to embrace him on occasion. Now all of that was gone.

Finally, when Cas’ throat was raw and his sides ached and he felt like he’d expended all of his energy, he started the car. He didn’t know where he’d go, but he needed to drive. It made him feel closer to Dean. He tried to hold back another crying fit as he thought of it. The ringing of his cell phone surprised him. There was a little dagger as part of his mind immediately hoped it was Dean and the rest of his brain reminded him it never would be again.

He saw one of Sam’s numbers on the ID. He answered with a heavy heart. “Hello, Sam.”

“Cas, where are you? Can you come to the bunker? I tried...Shit, I tried to make a deal, but Crowley didn’t show. When I got back, Dean’s body was gone. Please, man, can you come? I know you’re...I’m sorry, Cas, I wouldn’t ask, I know you’re hurting as bad as me, but...please?”

“Why would Crowley take Dean’s...Dean’s…” Castiel found he couldn’t say it without choking on the word, his eyes burning with the need to shed tears. “Why would he take him?”

“I don’t know, Cas. I don’t know! Something to do with the Mark, maybe?”

“I’ll be there as soon as I can, Sam. Just stay put. Call me if you...need me.” Cas barely got those words out before the flood of emotion overtook him again.

“You’re not gonna lecture me about trying to make a deal, are you? That was only a last resort, if I couldn’t threaten Crowley into - ”

“Sam, if I’d had a soul to sell…” He didn’t bother to finish the sentence.

Sam was quiet for a moment and Cas almost couldn’t hear him when he spoke again.

“You loved him, didn’t you?”

Castiel saw no reason for pretense in their hour of grieving. “Yes, Sam. More than anything else. Even Heaven.”

“He...you know he…” Sam couldn’t continue and Castiel could hear the choked sobs. Finally, Sam calmed himself enough to bite out, “He loved you, too, Cas. He couldn’t say it and he couldn’t...show it, not the way most people do. But he did. Not like...not like he loved me. Not like a...brother, but like… _love_ , ok?”

Castiel let the tears come again. He didn’t know if Sam’s words were true, but he soaked them up anyway. He held them to his chest and clung to them like a lifeline. Maybe, just maybe, Dean had felt what Cas felt. It was enough. It had to be enough.

“Thank you, Sam,” Cas choked out. “I’m so grateful for that. I will see you soon.”

He dropped the phone on the seat and tried to get himself under control. It was a long drive to the bunker and a car accident wasn’t going to help anything. Not until after he’d learned what Crowley was up to and what he’d done with Dean’s...with Dean. Then perhaps Castiel would let a car accident take him out before his stolen grace could burn him up. He’d never see Dean again, but at least he wouldn’t have to feel anymore.

He practically fell into the bunker when Sam whipped open the door. Those long, muscled arms enveloped him and he hugged back for all he was worth. He tried not to think about the last time he had hugged Sam, how he’d still been tingling from Dean’s embrace. He felt Sam start to shake and realized Sam might be having similar thoughts.

“Come on, Sam, let’s go downstairs where we can sit.”

He found himself leading the last surviving Winchester down the stairs of the man’s own bunker. He thought of how far this family had fallen. From the mighty Men of Letters down to a single, broken man. He worried about how Sam would fare without his brother. Perhaps he might have to stick around a while after they learned of Crowley’s scheme. Just to watch over him for a little while. It’s what Dean would have wanted.

Once Sam was calm enough, he showed Cas where he had tried to summon Crowley. Neither of them was ready to see the room where Dean had been laid out. Castiel thought about other ways to draw Crowley to them. He knew there were some Enochian spells that might be more effective and he told Sam as much.

“Guess we do some research, then,” Sam told him, obviously glad for something to do, an action to take toward the goal.

Many hours later, they finally found one Castiel thought would work. The ingredients were demon-specific, which meant Crowley would have a much harder time not answering the call. The problem was that the ingredients were hard to come by and Castiel no longer had wings.

They discussed the locations of the various items and Cas realized being around Sam was easing the pain just a little. Not enough. Nothing would ever, ever be enough. But it wasn’t quite as hard to manage when someone else he cared about was next to him.

“I know if we split up it might be easier to retrieve the ingredients, but I’d rather stay together, Sam.” Castiel stared at the floor, trying to find the right words. “Being with you...it makes the grief...a little easier to bear,” he admitted in a gruff voice.

“Yeah,” Sam whispered. “Same here, Cas.” He ran a hand back through his hair, blinking as though trying to clear his head. “Plus, it might be too dangerous to do it solo.”

“Can you show me how to book the flights?”

“Yeah, sure, Cas,” Sam agreed, pulling his laptop open. Without looking away from the screen, he asked, “So, you figured out a way to refill your grace yet?”

Castiel sighed. “No.” He saw no reason to tell Sam he didn’t intend to refill it.

“That’s why...you know...I tried to call Crowley instead of you.”

Castiel nodded. “You thought I probably didn’t have the juice.”

Sam looked upset. He put his hand on Castiel’s arm. “What? No. Cas, I didn’t want to save him at the cost of you burning out. He wouldn’t have wanted that, either, not even to save me.”

Cas tilted his head and peered at Sam. “But I would have, Sam. If I had had the power, I’d have offered, gladly.”

“Well, promise me you won’t, if we - _when_ we find his body, promise me you won’t try it. He’s no good without you. Whenever he’s lost you...look, just promise, all right?”

“I promise, Sam. I don’t have the ‘mojo’ as Dean used to call it.” He felt his emotions threaten to overwhelm him again at the simple memory.

“Ok, um, here, this is how you book the tickets, see?” Sam started showing him how to make a reservation. Suddenly his head snapped up and he asked, “Do you smell - “

“Sulfur!” Cas confirmed, whipping around to find the source.

When he found it, he stopped breathing for a moment. The brightest soul he had ever known, the most beautiful soul in all creation now stood before him, but blackened, tarnished and twisted. The worst part, for Castiel, was seeing the pain that soul was in. It was shoved deep, down below the bloodlust and the anger and the hatred for everything. It was hidden underneath all the evil that was swirling over it like frost on a window, but it was there. Pain and fear and regret.

“Dean?” Sam asked in a choked voice full of disbelief.

“Sam, no!” Cas cried out as Sam made to move toward his brother. “He’s not himself. Crowley’s done something to him. He’s...he’s a demon.”

“What? But he’s got the anti-possession tattoo, he can’t - “

“Sam, he isn’t possessed. His own soul…” Here Castiel’s voice broke and he could barely go on. “It’s been...corrupted somehow.”

“Well done, Broken Wings, well done,” Dean growled, clapping. “I forgot with your angel mojo you’d be able to see through this meat suit. Well,” he continued, smiling malevolently and gesturing toward himself. “You did get one thing wrong. What you see here is not the work of Crowley.”

He plopped down into a chair at the opposite end of their table and put his feet up, crossed at the ankles. “This here is the benefits of the Mark of Cain, fellas! Turns out there was a little side effect to the jawbone juice. Immortality, baby! Just, you know, a little bit different than the kind I always wanted little Sammy to have,” he told them with a smirk.

He clasped his hands over his stomach and tilted his head back to look at them. “Speaking of, Sam I totally get why you got hooked on demon blood now. I do. Why would you not wanna feel all this...power? I mean, if I wanted, I could slam both of you into that wall over there and you couldn’t stop me!”

“Why are you here, Dean? Did Crowley send you? Or did you come to show us the effects of your stupidity?” Cas, seeing what Dean had let himself become, was furious with him now for getting the Mark in the first place. He’d been scared and unhappy before, but now that he knew the end result, he couldn’t believe Dean had been so careless.

“I’m not a puppet for that douchebag. I came here so you’d know not to look for me or try to make a deal to bring me back. Coz I am _fine_ , fellas. Hell, better than fine. No more pesky human emotions, no more having to do the right thing, no more saving people who don’t give a fuck.” He let out a laugh that made Cas’ skin crawl with its wrongness. “I am the best I have ever been! But oh, Sammy, what would dear old Dad say, huh? Like to see him smack me around now.”

His eyes flashed black for a moment then and Sam turned away, looking as though he might cry. Or get sick. Cas couldn’t tell for sure.

“Fine, Dean. You’ve said what you came to say, why are you still here? You do realize that, brother or not, if I catch you killing innocents, I’m going to get you with the demon knife, right?”

Dean laughed again and Castiel thought _he_ might be sick. “Good old Sammy. Always so pure.” Then he pointed a finger at Sam. “Well, except for that time you fucked a demon and got jacked up on drinking her blood, of course. Hell, Cas here kissed one, too. The only one here who hasn’t is me!” He laughed even harder now. “Ain’t that a kick in the pants? I’m the only one with no cross-species sexual experience.” He gave Castiel a long look that Cas could not interpret.

“Dean, whatever else you may be, I can see through all your emotions. I can see through your soul to the very bottom. I know that somewhere in there, you’re afraid and you’re in pain.”

Dean flashed his eyes black again and narrowed them. “No, Cas, my former friend, all you see is an echo of a shadow of what used to be. I can’t feel a damn thing. Finally, after all this time, I got my wish. You boys have fun.”

With that, he was gone, the smell of sulphur lingering in his wake and making Castiel evermore nauseated. Cas felt like he couldn’t breathe and it wasn’t from the smell. He bent over and took deep ragged breaths through his mouth, trying not to be sick. Trying not to wail and throw himself off of the highest place nearby.

“Cas, are you all right?” Sam asked, rushing to his side. “Hey, hey, come sit down.” He managed to more oR less wrestle Castiel into a chair.

“Oh, his soul, Sam, his beautiful soul. It’s so twisted now, so _tortured_. And despite what he says, it’s in so much pain. The real Dean is still in there, underneath it all.”

Cas hadn’t realized he was shaking until Sam wrapped a blanket around his shoulders. He couldn’t seem to stop it. He was exhausted in a way he hadn’t been since he was fully human. For the first time, he actually _wanted_ to sleep, craved it like he had the taste of peanut butter and jelly. He wondered if, with his waning grace, he might actually be able to fall asleep.

“Sam, I…I think I want to try to sleep. You should sleep, too. Tomorrow, we’ll figure out what to do. Tonight, sleep.” He wasn’t even sure he was saying the words aloud.

He could feel himself drifting off. Then strong arms lifted him from the chair and helped him stumble down the hallway. He opened his eyes when his back touched the mattress. He tried to sit up and fight Sam off.

“No, this is his room, I can’t - “

“He’d want you here, Cas. He wanted you here before he…” Sam faltered for a moment. “He made space for you here. He’s slept in the middle of the bed our whole lives, but when you came to the bunker, he moved to the side and made a space for you.”

Cas lay back then against the pillow. When Sam had gone, Castiel turned to the side and took the other pillow. He buried his face in it and breathed in the scent of Dean that was trapped inside it. He wrapped his arms around the pillow and hugged it to him, willing with all his being for it to become Dean. It did not. Inhaling the scent of his love, he slept.

The next morning, he woke up feeling hollowed out. He couldn’t remember why, at first. Then the truth crashed over his head like a monster wave, threatening to drown him. He dragged himself out of bed, wishing he had enough grace to save Dean. He wasn’t sure, though, even at full power, that he could have fixed what the Mark had done. But it might have allowed him to find Cain and figure what _could_ be done.

He forced himself to do some of the things he had learned to do as a human, like showering. Some of them he didn’t need to do yet, like shaving and relieving himself, but he did brush his teeth. He wondered if he should eat, but he didn’t feel that gnawing ache in his gut that told him he needed food. He really would like some coffee, though.

He found Sam in the kitchen, sipping from a mug as he pushed eggs around a pan disconsolately. Sam’s face brightened marginally when he saw Cas and he managed a smile. He poured a cup of coffee for the not-quite-angel and offered him some eggs.

“I don’t need to eat, yet. Thank you, though.”

Sam just nodded and sat down with his breakfast. Cas could tell that Sam was having to force himself to eat, just as he himself had in the days after Dean had kicked him out of the bunker. Those few hours in the bunker had been bliss and the time after had been a little taste of Hell. He sighed. Everything led back to thoughts of Dean. He missed Dean so much. He couldn’t think about it.

“So,” Sam began, stopping to clear his throat. “I guess today we try to figure out how to save my brother.” He stopped trying to eat and dropped his head in his hands. “I can’t believe he’s a demon.” His voice was barely a sound.

“I know, Sam. Me, either.” Cas sighed heavily. “The way I see it, we have 3 options. We can try to cure him, which is not a good option. Anyone whose blood we use will likely die. We try to find Cain and see if we can convince him to remove the Mark. Or we do research and try to find some other way to remove the Mark.”

Sam looked contemplative. “Curing him would be the easiest way, but you’re right. Someone would die or end up like me and I can’t have that. Not even for Dean.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Do the angels not have a spell for soul purification? Is it all just burn them out with you guys?”

Cas frowned. “If such a spell exists, I am not aware of it. I could - “ He stopped, not wanting to offer the next suggestion, but knowing he had to. “I could talk to Metatron and see if he knows. There is no guarantee he will tell me.”

Voice again barely audible, Sam confessed, “I wish he’d just stay here with us. Demon or not. I wish he’d stay until we figured it out.”

Cas sat up straighter suddenly as a thought occurred to him. “We can summon him. Like any other demon. And hold him with a devil’s trap.”

Sam’s head snapped up. “He’ll be pissed.”

Cas actually laughed. “Is he not always ‘pissed’, Sam?”

Sam managed a laugh as well. “Good point. Let’s do it.”

Nearly an hour later, as Cas was finishing up adding sigils to the devil’s trap, Sam returned to the dungeon with the last of the demon-summoning ingredients. They were not quite as hard to come by when the demon was not the King of Hell - and when the caster knew the demon personally.

“Wow, you really think we need that?” Sam asked him as he set the items on the ground.

Cas shook his head. “I don’t know. We don’t know how powerful a demon the Mark has made him, but since Cain is a Knight of Hell, it’s safe to assume Dean is pretty powerful. I am using one that should hold the highest level of demon.” The standard one had held Crowley, but he had been weakened by human blood. Cas didn’t want to take a chance.

Sam took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Are we ready?” he asked as Cas finished the final lines of the trap.

“We are ready.”

Sam performed the summoning and Cas stood at the ready with the shackles. He hated to bind Dean this way, but they had little choice. They had to keep him safe from himself and his demonic instincts so that they could find a way to save him from the effects of the Mark. Before he was quite ready, Dean materialized in front of him.

“What the _fuck_?” Dean cried as he tried to move and realized what had happened. “Son of a bitch! I thought I told you chuckleheads to leave me alone!” He practically roared as he got as close to Sam as the trap would allow.

Cas took advantage of his fury and distraction to slap the manacles on his wrists. Dean whirled around and Cas could see a host of emotions flood his face, but with so little experience as a human, he could read few of them, aside from the anger.

“We decided we’d rather have you, cursed or not,” Cas told him dryly, stepping out of the devil’s trap.

Dean’s eyes flashed black. “Or maybe you decided you wanted a piece of this. I know you’ve got a little demon fetish, right?” He put his tongue between his teeth and winked, grinning. Cas’ stomach twisted at the sight of that familiar, flirty expression with a demon’s eyes where those brilliant green ones should be, black eyes full of death instead of life.

Dean saw the effect it had on him and pushed a little harder. “I mean, there was Meg and the tonsil hockey first. And then, well, you jumped on the chance to buddy up with Crowley, which means there was probably a kiss to seal _that_ deal, too, I bet. Black eyes just seem to fire you right up, don’t they?”

The demon that was Dean smiled, but there was a bitterness to it, underlying the evil glee. Some part of Dean - the real Dean - was upset by what he was saying or about to say. Cas could see it in both Dean’s face and his soul, but he couldn’t stop it. “Maybe that’s why you never kissed me, huh? You were waiting for these babies,” he said, pointing at his eyes.

Cas sucked in a harsh breath. He turned and fled from the room, unable to bear what Dean - no matter that he was not himself - was saying to him right now. He heard Dean call out nastily, “Yeah, that’s right! Run away like you always do, Cas!”

He felt a sob escape him as he leaned against a wall. He could hear Sam’s raised voice, but he was far enough away now that he couldn’t make out the words. He forced himself upright, made himself move into the living area so that he could sit down on the couch. He dropped his head to his hands and wept again.

To have Dean finally speak of what was between them, only to mock it...it hurt more than Cas could have anticipated. He hated everything about this situation. He did his best to calm down and stop crying, as much as it hurt. He had to keep a clear head today. Sam would need him, too. Who knew what Dean was saying to him in there.

As Cas sat there with his head in his hands, he wasn’t sure how much time passed, but he startled when a hand touched his back. His head jerked up and he saw Sam, looking worse for wear, as Dean might have said once.

“Hey, Cas,” he rasped. His voice was dry and papery, like he’d been yelling. “You doing ok? You know it wasn’t...him...right?”

Cas wasn’t sure if Sam really thought Cas needed to be told or if he was trying to convince himself. Regardless, he nodded. “I know, Sam. I could see his soul. It was...hurt by the things he was saying.” _Just as much as I was_ , he thought.

Sam looked like the words made him feel better. “Yeah. Yeah, Dean is...I know I spent so long mad at him, but he’s…” To Cas’ surprise, Sam broke down and cried.

He was not well versed in these matters, but he understood it was comforting to be held during these times. So he reached out and pulled Sam to him. He stroked his back soothingly, saying nothing.

“He said,” Sam began through hiccuping sobs. “He said awful things, Cas. And I knew...I knew they were the demon, but...fuck, Cas. It helps, what you said. Knowing his soul didn’t like it. I told myself it was the demon, but knowing it for sure, that helps. Thanks, man.”

“Of course, Sam. His words hurt me, too. Even knowing for certain he didn’t mean them, they hurt. Because some small part of him might believe that.” His own breath hitched for a moment. “Now that we know he’s safe, we need to ward this place against Crowley, if we can.”

“I already started on that, while you were driving here. The only place I hadn’t done was the dungeon and I did that before breakfast, once we knew Crowley didn’t have him.” He scratched his head, calmer now. “Are you going to talk to Metatron? You don’t have to, we can find another way - “

“No, I must. He’s the best possibility, though I don’t know how I will convince him to help  us. Perhaps Hannah can be of some assistance, though.”

* * *

 

When Cas arrived, Hannah said Metatron was refusing to speak to anyone. He still wouldn’t reverse the spell, or tell them how to do so. He wouldn’t even look at them. She agreed to allow him into the cell to try his luck, but she would not help him try to persuade Metatron.

“I’m sorry, Castiel. I’m not going to help you save one human when he won’t help us save all the angels. You chose him over us and - “

“I understand, Hannah. I will also be speaking to him about reopening the rest Heaven, but I don’t need you in there if you are only backing me part of the time.” He started to turn away, then stopped. “Thank you for letting me in.”

To Cas’ surprise, Metatron spoke right away. “Well, well, well. If it isn’t the traitorous, human-loving Castiel. What brings you here?” His smirk was both evil and insane. “Done mourning your little Winchester so soon? That doesn’t seem like you.”

“Dean isn’t _dead_ , Metatron.”

The former self-elected god-replacement lost his smirk and snarled at that. “I killed him myself, Castiel. Don’t tell me your fading grace is making you delusional now.”

“Dean had the Mark of Cain, Metatron. Do you know what that means?” It was Cas’ turn to snarl.

Metatron waved a dismissive hand and looked away as if bored. “Yeah, yeah, he could use the First Blade and kill higher ranking demons like the knights. So what?” His tone was petulant now.

“The Mark also means that when you thought you killed Dean, all you did was turn him into a demon.” The angel’s head whipped around at that. “He’s alive, but his soul has been twisted. I need you to tell me if there is an angel spell that can fix him.”

Metatron smiled his sweet, false smile. “As a matter of fact, _there is_ ,” he cooed. Then his face hardened, even as he kept smiling. “But I am not going to tell you anything about it, Castiel. You’re just going to have to watch your puny human suffer as a broken soul for the rest of eternity.” The angel covered his mouth with his hand. “Oops! I mean until your grace burns out and you die.”

Cas growled. “Metatron, you have destroyed everything I ever cared about. First Heaven and now Dean. If you won’t help me, I am going to cause you more pain than you’ve ever imagined possible!” He had no desire to torture anyone, not even Metatron, but he needed the other angel to believe he was capable of it - even if he wasn’t so sure himself. “If I have to, I’ll take _your_ grace.”

With a laugh, Metatron said smugly, “No, you _won’t_. You don’t have the balls, Castiel.”

“ _Watch me_!” Cas snarled, sliding his angel blade into his hand and pressing the tip of it into Metatron’s throat. When that elicited no reaction, Cas took the blade and sliced into the angel’s arm, successfully hiding the wince he wanted to give as he did so.

Metatron howled. “Dammit, Castiel! That _hurts_!” he whined.

“That’s kind of the point!” Cas snapped. He slashed the other side. “Tell me what I want to know!”

Metatron yelped again. “All right! Stop!” He huffed a breath. “I won’t tell you about the spell, but I will tell you how to find Cain.”

“I can still take your grace!” Cas threatened, but Metatron only looked sly instead of frightened.

“Yes, you could, Castiel. But you will only end up burning out again.” He smiled that sick little smile again. “The only way to get another angel’s grace without it burning you out is if they give it to you willingly. And I am certainly not about to do that.” His eyes hardened. “And you can torture me all you like, but I am not reopening the rest of Heaven or telling anyone else how to do it. I’d rather die.”

Cas grimaced, but finally asked, “How do I find Cain?”

* * *

 

When he got back to the bunker, Sam was pacing. He looked almost as bad as he had earlier when he’d come out of the dungeon from talking to Dean.

“You spoke with him again,” Cas guessed.

Sam’s head snapped up as if just noticing Cas was there. “Y-yeah. I, uh, I just...I thought, if part of him is trapped in there like you say, I wanted to tell that part of him that, um…” He ran a hand through his hair and licked his lips several times.

“It’s all right, Sam. Did he end up saying something horrible to you again?”

Sam’s eyes were haunted. He started to speak, but instead just nodded, tears flooding his eyes. He blinked them away rapidly and cleared his throat. “Sorry...I know it’s the demonic part and not the real him, but…”

“It’s ok. I understand. Were you able to say what you wanted to say to him?”

“Yeah, um...yeah. I told him.” He gave a short nod and sat heavily in the chair closest to him.

“Good. That’s good, Sam. Dean will have heard you. The real him. The part that loves you more than anything else in the world.” He looked at Sam pointedly and saw the relief in his face at Cas’ conviction. “Now, Metatron wouldn’t tell me how to fix him, but he did tell me how to find Cain. Perhaps I can convince a former demon more easily than I could the former voice of God.”

“Well, from what Dean said, at least Cain didn’t seem to be crazy. Pretty sure Metatron is. So, how do we find him?”

Cas explained the spell to Sam.

“Really? That’s it? It seems way too easy.”

Cas shook his head. “I don’t think Metatron was lying. I’ll have to hope not. I have no way to verify the spell without performing it.” He looked at Sam sadly. “We have to find Cain. I don’t know of any other way to save your brother.”

“Hey, it’s ok,” Sam told him, reaching out to squeeze his shoulder. “We’ll save him, Cas. We will.”

Cas stared at Sam for a long moment, uncertain. Then he nodded. “Let’s get this done.”

“Aren’t you tired? It’s getting pretty late.”

“No. The sooner we do this, the sooner we finish this. I can sleep after I’ve spoken to Cain. I won’t rest until I have his answer.”

They set up in the middle of the living room. Sam had easily collected ingredients from the Men of Letters coffers and Cas had written up the sigils on the floor. Sam added the last of the items to the bowl and Cas started the incantation.

At first, nothing happened. Then Cas fell to his knees as a vision overtook him. He saw a man, presumably Cain, sitting in a cabin in the woods, then a sign that said Wind River, Wyoming. The vision cleared and Cas stumbled to his feet, cursing.

Cas shrugged off Sam’s concern about his well-being, as well as his offered hand. “Dammit, he told me it was a summoning spell.”

“It’s not?”

“Do you _see_ him anywhere?” Cas snapped, patience at its end. He was immediately contrite. “I’m sorry, Sam. I’m...more tired than I realized.” He sighed heavily. “I had a vision of Cain’s whereabouts.” He frowned. “At least I hope it was Cain. Regardless, it looks like I have to sleep, after all. He’s in Wyoming.”

“Ok, so, you’ll head out in the morning?”

“ _We_ will head out in the morning. I am not leaving you here alone with Dean again. It’s not good for you.”

“What if he escapes?” Sam asked, not even bothering to argue Cas’ point.

“Then it’s better that you aren’t here alone with him. We can summon him again, if need be. We’ll make sure we take the ingredients for it with us, just in case.” He felt the world shift under him. “I’ve got to sleep now. That vision sapped what was left of my energy. We should leave first thing.”

“Yeah, no problem. I’ll pack my stuff and then hit the bed myself. My car or yours?”

Cas narrowed his eyes, debating whether to make the suggestion he wanted to make. “I believe that Dean’s car would be faster than both.”

Rather than the objection Cas was expecting, Sam just gave him a small smile. “You’re right. I doubt he’ll mind.”

“May I drive?” Cas smiled for the first time in what felt like years. “Dean always says you drive like an old woman.”

Sam laughed genuinely for the first time since Cas had come back. “Yeah, I’ll use that as an excuse when I tell him I let you drive his baby.”

Despite his fatigue, it took Cas a while to manage to sleep. Now that he had nothing else to focus on - aside from the slim hope that Cain could and would help them - all Cas could seem to think about were Dean’s last words to him. He couldn’t stop himself wondering what would have happened if he ever had kissed Dean the way he’d wanted. Would they be where they are now? Still trying to find a way to turn Dean back from demon to human?

Cas thought maybe not. If he’d ever had the courage, maybe Dean would have trusted him a little more, sought _his_ advice instead of Crowley’s. Because Dean would have known that Cas was on _his_ side and not just the angels. He shook his head in the dark. There was no use dwelling on it. He couldn’t change the past.

He couldn’t stop himself from imagining the soft press of those lips to his own, however. While Dean was incorrect and there had not been a kiss with Crowley, Cas had kissed Meg and he had kissed April, but he knew without question that a kiss with Dean would be different. He’d thought of Dean when April kissed him. He’d been too overwhelmed by the unfamiliar sensations after that to think of much of anything, but during the kisses, the intimate parts, it had been Dean on his mind.

* * *

 

The next morning, he and Sam were both quiet as they set off. Sam had checked on Dean before they left, not mentioning that they were leaving. He hadn’t been as vitriolic, but he had still tried his best to get under Sam’s skin. Cas wondered if he had reined himself in to keep from running them off again because he didn’t really want to be alone. He didn’t dwell on it.

If it hadn’t been for the need for fuel for the car, Sam likely would have had to remind Cas to make the stops they did. As it was, he drove flat out, as fast as he could, for as long as he could. He reassured Sam that as an angel, he could see far enough ahead to know if there were obstacles - like animals or cars about to make poor decisions - up ahead of them. He only had to use his dwindling grace to turn away a police officer once. The rest of the time his speeding went undetected by law enforcement.

They were getting close to Wyoming, somewhere in west Nebraska, when Cas heard it. Someone - some _angel_ \- nearby was putting out a distress call to any angels in the area. No one was answering. Cas didn’t know how many of the remaining angels were up in the open part of Heaven, but he thought it was the majority.

“Sam, I...I’m afraid I have to make a detour before we find Cain. There’s...there’s an angel in trouble and I think I am the only other angel nearby. I have to go to him.” He glanced over at Sam. “If we weren’t so close or if I thought there was anyone else -”

“It’s fine, Cas,” Sam interrupted. “I know Dean’s your priority, but another hour or two shouldn’t make that much difference, right?”

Cas nodded, then signaled to the other angel that he was close and was on his way. There were no words, but a pulse of angelic gratitude washed over him. It had been some time since he felt positive emotions from another angel and it warmed him. He turned off on the road that felt like it was the right direction and soon they were nearing the origin of the signal.

“Sam, I don’t know what to expect. You should be ready for anything,” he told the younger Winchester before he stepped out of the car. Sam just nodded and grabbed a few things from the trunk.

They were outside a small house with no neighbors within at least a mile. There were no signs of life, but Cas knew the signal had come from inside the dwelling. He crept forward and signaled for Sam to check the back, as he had seen Dean do more than a few times. Driving Dean’s car and using Dean’s hand gestures was settling him. Giving him hope that soon Dean would be restored.

For now, though, he focused. He used his grace to scope out the house, finding that the angel was the only being in the building. He seemed to be in the basement. He waited for Sam to come back around, with a head shake and a shrug, confirming there was nothing on that side.

“I think he’s in the basement. Was there an exit outside?”

“Didn’t see one,” Sam told him.

Sam picked the lock and they entered. The house looked undisturbed. There were no signs of any kind of struggle. There were pictures of a young couple on several shelves. Cas knew without being told that the young man was now the angel. He and Sam made their way to a door in the hallway, beyond which lay the basement.

When they got to the bottom of the steep steps, Cas was shocked by what he saw. The angel from the photos upstairs was in bad shape, obviously the victim of torture, but that was not the shocking part. He was lying, immobile, in the center of a symbol that had been burned into the floor. It was only because they had finished the basement that the symbol was possible. A concrete floor would have prevented it.

“It’s an angel trap,” Cas whispered in awe to Sam. “I’ve never seen one. I’ve only ever heard rumors that they actually existed.” He squatted just outside the circle, which glowed a faint blue. “I don’t think he can move because of the trap. Find me something to cut through the wood with.”

Sam came back with an axe, chopping through the circle easily. The angel inside gasped and sat up. “Thank you!” he said. Now that he was awake and mobile, his wounds began to heal, but he looked troubled. “Crowley had me. He tortured me to try and tap into what he called my angel operating system, but he could not get it right. I am a higher rank than he is used to dealing with. I did not have what he wanted to know, anyway.”

“How long have you been here?” Cas asked.

“He tortured me for a day, then stuck me here two days ago. I’ve been calling and calling, but no one answered until you. Are all the other angels...dead?” He didn’t look as upset by that as Cas might have expected.

“No. We overtook Metatron and got part of Heaven open, so most angels who were still alive went back there. I don’t think anyone else is in the area.” Cas was concerned that Crowley had so recently been so near to where Cain was, but he didn’t know if it was related. “Do you know why he chose you?”

The angel couldn’t meet his eye then. He obviously did know and didn’t want to say. Cas hesitated to push him - he’d been tortured, after all - but he knew it could be important. He sighed and stepped closer.

“What’s your name?”

“Jophiel. For a time, I was...Metatron’s companion. Before he went rogue. He took me away from the Tree of Life and gave me new work to do, claiming it was God’s work.” The angel shook his head. “I knew after a while that it probably was not. I know now that he was setting up the spell that he used to cast out the other angels. When he stole the flaming sword from me, he cast me out of Heaven and sent me down to Earth.” He glanced at Cas then. “That was before he used stolen grace and closed the gates.”

“Jophiel, I need to know why Crowley came to you. There is someone important nearby, so if Crowley was in the area to see him -”

Jophiel interrupted. “No. He came for me. I was...foolish.” He sighed and turned away. “Even before Metatron took me from the tree, I was dissatisfied with the way Heaven was being run, with how our brothers have acted toward each other and the people on Earth.” He held himself stiffly and turned around, facing Cas again. “Once Metatron closed the gates, it got worse. I wanted…” He stopped, dropping his eyes again.

“It’s all right, Jophiel. I, too, have been dissatisfied with Heaven and its methods. Please continue. We are not here to judge you.”

Jophiel laughed bitterly. “You will. I summoned Crowley here to make a deal.”

“What kind of deal? Cas asked, concerned.

“I don’t feel like part of Heaven anymore and I don’t want to live on Earth, knowing I’ve taken this poor man from his family. He has much to live for, as I do not.”

“Jophiel,” Cas said more firmly. “What did you ask Crowley for?”

“What I _would_ have asked him for was to kill me. I knew he had an Angel Blade, which is why I called him specifically. I wanted him to kill me and bring back Douglas, the man whose body I’m using as a vessel.” He shook his head, pacing. “I never got the chance. He captured me and started torturing me right away.”

Cas frowned. “You want to die? Forever?”

Jophiel sighed wearily. “I have lived a long, long time, Castiel and seen much, most of it not good.”

“You know who I am?” Cas asked in surprise.

“We all know who you are. The angel who helped break Heaven - though I know it was not by choice. The angel who has the grace of another burning him out.” Jophiel’s face turned calculating. “Perhaps I should not have called Crowley.”

Cas wondered, “What did you even hope to offer him?”

“My blade. I know he already has one, but a demon like Crowley would not turn down another or a chance to kill an angel - or so I thought. Turns out I underestimated him.” He looked speculatively at Cas then. “But I could offer you something better.”

“Me? What are you talking about?” Cas was confused. Obviously, Jophiel knew he was not a demon, so why would he expect Cas to make a deal?

“I didn’t dare ask any other angels because I knew none of them would do what I want. You, though. I think you might. Because I have something you need and I will give it freely.” His smile was both tired and sharp.

“What are you suggesting, Jophiel?” Cas asked, afraid to hope for the answer he thought Jophiel might give.

“Castiel, I want you to take my grace. If it is given as a gift, it will not burn out. Kill me, but once I am gone, revive Douglas. Give him his life back.” His eyes shone with desperation.

Cas turned away, hand in his hair. How could he do this? Take the life of yet another angel? Even if that angel wanted to die, there had been too much killing already. Yet, how could he refuse? Dean needed him. If he burned out, Dean would likely be stuck as a demon forever - and Cas knew that could happen at any time.

Sam drew him aside. “Cas,” he whispered, “If the guy wants to go...I say do it. He was willing to give a demon an angel blade to make it happen. You’ve got nothing to feel bad about here.”

“His crimes aside, he is one of my brothers. While part of what you say is true, it is not true that there is nothing about it to cause me guilt - or grief.” He took a deep breath. “Before I knew Dean had become a demon, I wanted the same thing Jophiel wants. But now that there is hope of saving Dean...I do need grace. And Metatron told me yesterday that grace that is offered will not burn out.”

“Then you gotta do it, Cas. I know it’s not the best scenario. But it _is_ the best plan we’ve got.” Sam gave Cas what he had heard Dean refer to as “puppy dog eyes”.

Cas understood why Dean had always had trouble turning it down. “Doesn’t it seem too easy, though? Isn’t it a huge coincidence that Crowley was here? So close to where Cain is?”

“Maybe. Doesn’t mean you need that grace any less. Plus, you get to save the guy Jophiel’s taken over. Seems like a win.” Sam shrugged.

Finally, Cas nodded. “You’re right.” He turned around and faced Jophiel. “You are certain this is what you want?”

Jophiel looked joyful. “It is, Castiel. I want to die. I cannot live as man or angel any longer. Please. Take my grace. I give it to you freely. Save Douglas and let me die.”

Cas nodded again. “All right, Jophiel. Come close.”

“Wait! Take my blade. Use it to take my grace.” Again, Cas nodded, understanding. Jophiel wanted the blade’s last act to be one of contrition.

Jophiel dropped to his knees and bared his neck. Cas said a quick prayer for him, just in case his Father was still listening, that Jophiel could now have peace. Then he slit the throat in front of him and inhaled the blue-white grace that began to spill out. When he had consumed it all, he drove his blade home and waited until Jophiel’s wings left black impressions on the floor. Then he pressed two fingers to Douglas’ forehead and the man gasped as he drew breath again.

He looked around, blinking. “He’s really...gone?” His voice was different now that no angel had residence inside him.

“Yes, he’s gone.” Cas confirmed, less unsettled now that his grace was back to full power.

Douglas sighed. “I wish he’d made a different choice, but...I’m glad to have my life back. My wife will be happy, too.”

As quickly as they could, Sam and Cas made their excuses and got out. No sooner was Sam back in the car, though, than Crowley appeared. Sam was locked in the car, unable to get out. Crowley smirked at him and finger waved.

“Quiet, Moose, the grown ups are talking,” he snarked. “Castiel,” he said louder. “Cas to his friends. So good of you to drop by. I think it’s been too long since we made a deal, don’t you? I happen to know I’ve got something you want this time. Something a lot better than a way to kill Raphael.”

Cas was perturbed by Crowley’s reappearance, but only mildly surprised. His restored grace was currently blocking most of his emotions, so he felt no fear. He was letting that happen. Letting it drown out the pain he’d been feeling and just let him be ok for a little while. He would regain his emotions later.

“I can almost guarantee I want nothing you have, Crowley. I told you, did I not, that when you betrayed us I would carve out your heart?”

“But darling, I haven’t!” Crowley crooned, placatingly. “I preserved your precious Dean for you! He’s still very much alive, you know.”

Cas made himself flinch and act surprised, even though he knew already. He suspected that Crowley did not know they had Dean, but he wasn’t certain. He didn’t want to tip his hand.

“What are you talking about?” he growled.

“The Mark of Cain. Dean is still alive.” Crowley smirked slightly. “He’s...not currently a _human_ , of course, but I can fix that...for a price.”

“What do you want, Crowley?” Cas’ voice made it clear he wasn’t in the mood for games.

“Simple, really. I restore Dean to his former - albeit less majestic - glory and you...well, you hand over the location of Heaven and get me inside it.”

Cas stared at Crowley for a moment before even his grace could not keep him from laughing. “You actually think that I would trade the lives of all my brothers for Dean?”

Crowley was unperturbed. “Oh, come off it, Castiel. You’ve already chosen him over the angels a dozen times by now. Not to mention, I was there when you were slaughtering pretty much everybody.” Crowley stepped uncomfortably close, lowering his voice to a seductive purr. “But if you want to play hard to get, I can sweeten the deal. You wouldn’t be the first person, or even angel, to metaphorically sell his soul for...love.”

The way Crowley’s tongue rolled over the word made Cas sick. As if he knew the first thing about what it was to love. He let his disgust show on his face. “The answer is no, Crowley. I’m not interested in a deal with you. Not for Dean. Not for anything. I learned my lesson.” He started to turn away then stopped. “It’s a shame Dean didn’t learn from my mistake. He made his choice and now he has to accept the consequences.”

Cas didn’t believe that last bit for a second, of course. He’d been tricked by Crowley and not for the first time. But Dean had been weak, hurting, scared - all the things demons preyed upon in regular people, let alone a highly desirable soul like Dean Winchester. He got halfway around the car before Crowley yelled at him.

“Don’t walk away from me, Castiel! If you don’t take this deal, I will make sure Dean stays a demon forever! There’ll be no second chances, do you hear me?” Cas did hear him. And he might have been afraid of the threat, if Crowley’s desperation weren’t so clearly evident in his voice.

Cas turned back. “Was this your end game all along, Crowley? Using Dean to get into Heaven? Is this why you got him turned?” By Crowley’s face he could tell he was right. “It’s a shame all that is going to go to waste, isn’t it?” He stepped closer to Crowley again.

Crowley stepped in even closer, lowering his voice again. “Now you listen to me, you smug bastard! I will get the location of Heaven one way or the other! If you won’t give it to me, not only will I find another angel and torture him, I will torture Dean until he’s begging to go back to Hell to esca -”

He was cut off mid-sentence as Cas sliced forward with his Angel Blade, straight into the King of Hell’s heart. He wasn’t sure if it would work. It had taken the First Blade to kill Abaddon, but...had it really? Or was that something they had been told by Crowley? Dean had said the demon knife hadn’t worked, but would an Angel Blade have killed her? All these thoughts had raced through his mind in the seconds before he made the decision to stab and the seconds it took to follow through and find out if it would work.

Certainly, Crowley didn’t die like the other demons Cas had killed. Instead of flashing orange and then dropping, he clutched at his chest as the blade slid back out. His eyes were wide and he attempted to say something, but dark red smoke bubbled out over his lips. He looked down at it, obviously terrified. He tried harder to speak, but more of the smoke rushed out, onto the ground, and his eyes rolled back. When the smoke had finally gone, Crowley’s body turned to ash and blew away.

Cas stumbled backward in complete shock, hitting the car with his legs. Sam quickly exited the vehicle in a rush, no doubt having seen everything from inside. Cas tried to turn toward him, but instead he found himself fixated on the spot where Crowley had been, unable to believe what he had seen - or the oily red stain on the ground that he was still seeing.

“Is he...really dead?” Sam asked in a shaky whisper.

“I don’t...I’m not sure, Sam. I don’t -” He shook his head. “I think he might be? But I don’t want to count on it.” He shook himself, trying to rid himself of the feeling of shock. “We should go. I need to get to Cain as quickly as possible.”

Cas longed for his wings, but he did the next best thing and drove them as fast as he could toward Wind River. It should have taken about 5 hours, but it took him just under 3. He located the cabin rather easily, given that he had another flash as soon as he was within range of the road he needed to turn on.

It was a disconcerting experience and one Sam did not care for, since his eyes had closed while he was still driving at speed. Thankfully, his full grace meant he could navigate the vehicle without his vision. Not that Sam had realized that before yelling rather loudly. Thankfully, it had not interrupted the the vision.

When they reached the driveway, Cas began to feel nervous for the first time. Had he really expected that Cain would just let them in? Speak to them? He was an angel and Sam was just a human. The fact that they were connected to Dean - the person to whom Cain had given his mark - might mean nothing to him.

“You ok, Cas?” Sam asked when they’d been sitting in the car with the engine off for a full minute.

“Nervous,” Cas admitted. “I’m suddenly afraid he won’t see us.”

“It’ll be ok. He’ll talk to us. We gotta stay positive here,” Sam reassured.

Cas nodded and sighed, opening the car door at last. When he stepped out, Cain was suddenly there, right in front of him. His smile was sharp and not welcoming. He looked away from Cas to Sam then.

“Well, the last time I saw a Winchester he was with a demon. I suppose you keep better company, but I can’t say I’m any happier to see you than I was your brother.” The smile dropped from his face. “Why are you here?”

Cas didn’t wait for Sam to answer. “Dean used the blade and was killed. Now he’s become a demon. I need to know how to fix him.”

Cain’s eyes swiveled back to Cas sharply. “ _You_ need to know? Not Sam?”

“ _We_ need to know, really,” Sam corrected, but Cain’s eyes didn’t shift.

“I can only assume that you are the great Castiel. Haven’t heard quite as much about you as I have the Winchesters, but I do seem to recall something about you playing God for a while, shooting up the place. Why are you so interested in fixing one demon?” He nodded toward Sam without moving his eyes from Cas’ face. “Him I could understand. They’re brothers and as I know very well, brothers will make stupid sacrifices for one another.”

Cas hesitated, but sensed that Cain needed to know the truth. “Dean is as important to me as he is to his brother.”

Cain’s eyes narrowed and he pressed. “And why is that, Castiel?”

“Look, he just _is_ , ok? Why are you pushing him on this? What does it matter to you?” Sam snapped.

“Sam,” Cas warned. “It’s all right. We’ve come to his hideout and taken him unawares. He is entitled to his questions.”

However, Cain evidently decided they deserved some explanation because before Cas could answer his question, Cain said, “Only one thing, that I know of, can cure a demon turned by the Mark. It is the thing that cured me.” He cocked his head to the side, eyes boring into Cas’ own. “True, unconditional love. Not brotherly love, either. Not friendship. Actual, romantic, storybook, soul mate _love_.”

Cas nodded, as if he’d expected the answer, which he had not. “I am...in love with Dean.”

“You raised him from Hell.” Cain’s words were not a question, but Cas nodded anyway. “It formed a bond between you?”

“That is how it began, yes,” Cas confirmed. He didn’t elaborate.

Cain nodded. “Come inside.”

He started walking and they followed, not even sharing a look. Cas was more hopeful than he’d been since he fell. He had fully restored grace again, Crowley was apparently dead and they might actually be able to restore Dean. His mind buzzed with joy, even though they weren’t quite in the clear yet.

Once inside, Cain walked to the mantle and picked up a photograph of a woman. “This was Collette, my wife.” He told Cas and Sam the story of the woman he had loved and lost, the one who had saved him from himself and from his demonic nature. It made Cas’ heart hurt to hear the story, even as it made his hope grow larger.

“The only hope you have of bringing Dean back to himself is your love for him. If it is not a true love, if it is not powerful enough, it will not be enough to save him. Do you understand?” Cain asked and Cas nodded. “I presume that he does not know of your feelings, correct?”

“No, he does not,” Cas confirmed.

“Then the first thing that you have to do is to tell him. And then you have to keep on telling him and showing him...until he believes you.” Cain opened his mouth to continue, but Sam cut in.

“You can’t just...take the Mark back from him? He can’t just give it to you?”

Cain shook his head. “The Mark cannot come back to me. It cannot be passed to the same person twice. I would take it back if I could, if only so I could kill myself - since it appears Dean will not be able to complete that promise for me.”

“So I tell him I love him and then what? He’s magically all better?” Cas asked skeptically.

“No, he is _not_ magically all better. As I said, you have to tell him and show him, perhaps many times, until he believes you. Then and only then will the Mark’s hold on him start to loosen. Once that has been done, the blade needs to be destroyed. I merely cast it away and that wasn’t enough.” He scratched his beard absently. “Soak it in holy oil, then salt and burn it. That should destroy it for good. Without the blade, the Mark is useless. It will begin to fade, and will eventually disappear.”

“So, at what point does my brother stop being a demon?” Sam asked.

“If Castiel’s love is true, the Mark and the taint on Dean’s soul should lift as soon as he believes in Castiel’s devotion.”

Cas had to ask. “You keep speaking of his believing in my love, but what if he does not return my affections?”

Cain and Sam both looked at him sharply then, but for different reasons.

Cain said, “If he doesn’t, this won’t work.”

At the same time Sam said, “Cas, he _does_!”

Cain and Sam looked at each other for a moment, then back to Cas. Cain finally spoke again. “If Sam is right, then you shouldn’t have anything to worry about. If he is wrong and Dean does not return your affections, then your love will not save him.” He glanced down at the picture in his hand once more before replacing it. “If there is nothing else, I would appreciate being left in peace now, please.”

“Of course. Thank you for everything,” Cas told him, turning to go.

It was evident Sam was angry with Cain for giving Dean the Mark and wanted to say more, but Cas tugged on his arm and gave him a pleading look. They couldn’t undo the past. All they could do was hope for a better future. With obvious reluctance, Sam followed Cas back out to the car.

Once they were back on the road, Cas drove with much less speed than he had earlier in the day. Once the niggling doubt had occurred to him, he couldn’t seem to shut it down or keep it from worming its way through all his thoughts, polluting them.

Sam didn’t mention the lowered speed, but after about an hour, he turned to Cas and said quietly, “You know he loves you, right? I mean, I know I told you, but...you believe me, right? This is going to work. I promise.”

“Thank you, Sam. I needed to hear that.”

His words were a boon to Cas’ flagging confidence in their mission. He squared his shoulders and pressed the car forward once more. This time, he went even faster than he had earlier, his renewed grace giving him even more power to propel the car along. Since he was at full power again, he used his grace to cloak and navigate the car, as well as make it go faster.

Sam did have to remind him to stop this time, even though the gas was running low. Cas was so intent on their destination that he failed to notice. Sam, trained by years in this car, knew how far a tank of gas would get them and made Cas pull over before they ran out. Sam also needed to eat, but he grabbed things he could eat in the car, knowing Cas was desperate to get back.

“Thank you, Sam,” Cas said when they were back on the road.

Sam gave him a bemused smile. “For what, Cas?” he asked, taking a bite of a premade sandwich from the gas station.

“For everything. Calling me for help. Keeping me hopeful. Helping me remember to stop for gas. All of it. I’m glad we’ve become friends.” Cas glanced at Sam, saw that he was still eating and smiling. “I know it was my fault that we weren’t before. For a lot of reasons.”

“No, Cas, look, we did this already, ok? The apologies? We’re good, man. We’re good,” Sam assured him, clapping him on the shoulder before taking another bite of his sandwich.

Cas nodded. “All right. Fair enough. But I do want you to know I appreciate all that you’ve done for me. I know that…” Here he faltered because it revealed things he wasn’t proud of. “I know that there were times when you stood up for me to Dean, convinced him to give me another chance -”

Sam laughed. “Cas, I’m not even gonna ask how you know that.” He shifted so he was facing Cas more directly. “But listen, man, I love you, too, all right? Not the way Dean does, obviously,” he said with a grin that Cas answered. “But as a friend. Like family. Ok? And family takes care of each other. You don’t have to thank me.” He bit into his sandwich and twisted forward again.

“I...love you, too, Sam.” A small smile stayed on his lips for a long time after they stopped speaking.

When they finally rolled into the bunker, Sam was clearly exhausted, despite his nap in the car, but he wanted to come with Cas to the dungeon. Cas had to stop him from following him down there.

“Sam, I know Dean is your brother and you need to know he’s all right, but this is something that I need to do without you. I can’t...do what I need to do with an audience.” He placed a hand on Sam’s shoulder, placatingly. “Besides which, you need to sleep.”

“Cas, no way am I going to be able to sleep until I know if you can cure him!” Then he dropped his eyes. “I get you need to be alone, but...what happens if he gets out of the trap or overpowers you or something? If I’m not in there…” He looked at Cas pointedly and shrugged.

Cas nodded thoughtfully. “That is true. I will send you a text every 15 minutes. If I go more than 18 minutes, come into the dungeon looking for me.”

Sam nodded slowly. “Give me your phone. Let me set up a reminder.”

“Show me how,” Cas countered.

When it was done, Sam said, “Ok, so whenever the timer goes off, just hit start again to make the countdown reset so it will go off again, ok?”

Cas indicated his understanding and then Sam was pulling him into another surprise hug. He hugged back just as tightly, smiling in spite of his nerves. Being Sam’s friend was nice. He preferred it to their previous relationship, certainly, but more than that, it felt right. It felt good.

“Look, it’s gonna be ok, Cas. He loves you back. He might not be able to say it, but he’s gonna respond and...and this is gonna fix him.” Cas wasn’t sure if Sam was reassuring Cas or himself, but he nodded and smiled, displaying a confidence he did not feel. “I’ll be right out here, if you need me, ok?”

“Ok, Sam. Thank you.”

He set the timer, took a deep breath and walked into the dungeon.

It was dark inside and he couldn’t see Dean. Then he finally saw him, lurking in the shadows at the edge of the devil’s trap. The light bulb above his head was shattered. Cas waved a hand, restoring the light bulb before he closed the door.

Dean, eyes flashing black just to try to hurt Cas, was grinning. “Turns out, even though I can't use my powers or get out of this trap, I can still jump pretty damn high.” The laugh sounded so wrong in that twisted persona. Cas hated it. He loved Dean’s laugh. That was not it. “So, where you been all day? You and Sam finally give in to all that sexual tension and his angel fangirling and give it a go?”

Cas held back the snarl and the angry retort he wanted to make. This was not Dean and a response was what the twisted part of him wanted. Cas looked on impassively. “No,” was all he said.

“Please, I can smell him on you. Matter of fact, I can smell my _car_ on you. You think you’re suddenly good enough to drive my car?” The laugh came again, utterly mocking and hateful sounding. Then Dean froze, face losing its humor. “And Crowley.” His face took on a bitter sneer. “I can smell Crowley all over you, too. You try to make another deal with him, huh? Man, you sure do like kissing demon dudes. Maybe you want a shot at _these_ lips, huh?” He puckered his lips cartoonishly and grabbed his crotch suggestively.

Cas thought it was as good an opening is any. “Actually, Crowley is dead. And I’ve never kissed him. But I will take a kiss from you.”

Dean looked shocked speechless for a once. Cas also saw something in the untouched part of his soul flare bright for a moment at the mention of a kiss. He stepped closer to Dean, unafraid for the first time in days.

Dean adopted a mocking smirk. “How could you kill Crowley? Need the Mark for that, angel.” He cocked his head, as if sniffing the air again. “Oh, you _are_ an angel again. Well, ain’t that just peachy? But Crowley ain’t dead, since I didn’t kill him.”

Cas stepped closer still. “Did you ever try stabbing him with an Angel Blade? Because it seemed rather effective. I watched red smoke pour out of his mouth and puddle up on the ground.” His smile was slightly smug. He wasn’t entirely certain if Crowley was dead, but he wasn’t telling Dean that. He was closing the distance between them in small increments.

Dean still looked and acted cocky, but there was a bit of fear there, too. “That why you’re getting so close to me? You planning to try your Blade on me, too? Won’t work.”

“I told you,” Cas said as he closed the distance to a single foot. “I want that kiss you keep offering.”

Dean laughed. “So I was right, huh? You do like these black, black eyes.” He gave a cocky grin with an edge of menace to it. “Pucker up then, angel.”

Cas asked, “You want me to kiss you?”

“You kidding? For a demon, getting to kiss an angel is like fucking a virgin for a regular dude,” Dean answered, smirking.

Cas knew the words were deliberately chosen to be distasteful, so he did not allow himself to react. Instead, he watched Dean’s soul flare with assent. So he nodded once, then used his grace to make Dean’s arms immobile.

“Hey, what the fuck?!” Dean shouted, then the mocking grin came back into his face and tone. “Angel likes bondage, huh? Kinky. Let’s do this.”

Cas stepped right up to Dean. The demon slipped control for a moment and black eyes turned green. His head tilted and he licked his lips. Then his posture stiffened and his eyes went black again. Cas halted.

“No. I want to see green eyes.” Cas stood, keeping his face blank, as he waited for Dean to refuse. He would kiss him, either way, but if it was possible for him to look like the real Dean, then that is what Cas wanted.

The demon smirked and shrugged. “Whatever you say, hoss. Can’t get rid of me, so I don’t care what color my eyes look.” The eyes turned green again.

Cas licked his lips and stepped up close, ignoring the smug look and the wrongness in the face he knew so well. He tilted his head and Dean did the same again. Just before he closed his eyes, he saw those pupils dilate and felt triumphant.

He made an effort to increase his connection to his physical body  The instant his lips touched Dean's he felt like his grace was on fire.

He felt as if he were flying again for a moment. Those lips were soft and warm, despite the evil, hateful words that had been pouring over them for days.

Before he had time to adjust, the tip of Dean's tongue was sliding against his lips, seeking entrance. Cas let him in, wishing he were more in control. However, when Dean tried to make the kiss into something darker, hungrier, Cas pulled back.

"Too much for you to handle?" Dean asked with a feral grin, but even Cas, inexperienced as he was, could see how affected Dean was.

Cas ignored the words. "Do you know why I kissed you, Dean?" He put on his own sarcastic smirk. "It isn't because I find demons so charming, I assure you."

“No?” Dean asked sarcastically, folding his arms when Cas released them and stepped back. “You sure as hell didn’t kiss me when I wasn’t all hopped up on demonic power.”

“No, I didn’t. Because even though I love you, I knew that you would likely balk at the idea of being with me, for a host of reasons. Dean Winchester is nothing without his rules.” Cas’ heart was thumping madly, but he didn’t let it show in his face. He decreased his connection to his body again.

The demon laughed. “Oh, really? You ‘love’ me? What the hell does a heartless, junkless angel know about love, huh? You’ve betrayed me, run off on me more times than I can count...” He pursed his lips and pretended to contemplate. “Nope, you know, that does sound like love, now that you mention it. Everyone who ever said they loved me pulled the same stunts.”

Cas narrowed his eyes, picking up the pain behind the anger. “Do you really believe that even your mother betrayed you?”

The laugh Dean barked out was bitter and full of fury. “You kiddin’ me? I begged her not to get out of bed. I told her what would happen if she got up and went to check on Sammy. Did she _listen_? Nope! She got up and she got dead.” He slapped his knee in evil glee that Cas could see was not real. “The best part? She was trying to stop her son from becoming a demon!” He forced a laugh he obviously didn’t feel. “She failed twice!” he added, still fake laughing.

Cas bound Dean’s arms again and this time his mouth for good measure. “Dean, I can see through your lies. You’re not angry. You’re hurt and you’re scared.” He stepped close again. “I can see through it all because I love you. If you choose not to believe it, that is your prerogative, but it happens to be true.”

The timer on his phone went off and he stopped to text Sam, resetting the alarm, but not explaining to Dean what he was doing.

He sighed heavily, then returned Dean’s ability to speak, which Dean started instantly. “You love me, huh? Yeah, I could tell by the way you banged that reaper right off the bat. Metatron takes your wings and you just cash in that V-card first thing.”

Cas rolled his eyes, even though his memories of that night left him feeling sick. He maintained his calm front for the demon. “She seduced me. I was unused to being human and experiencing sexual stimulation. It overwhelmed me.”

“So, what, the poor little virgin just lay back and thought of England?”

“No, you ass, I was thinking about _you_!” Cas responded before he could think, letting his hurt show for a moment.

He was glad of his slip when those black eyes slipped to green again for a brief moment. Then the demon who was Dean shook off his shock and found his voice again. “What reminded you most of me, hm? I bet it was the boobs, right?” His smirk was smug and angry.

Then Cas countered, “This jealousy is very touching, Dean. Is this why you slept with that porn star? Jealousy over April?”

He watched his question hit its mark when the eyes went green again. He softened his tone and said, “You were far away and - I believed - forever unattainable. I believed you did not reciprocate my feelings. That you never would. That, even if you ever did, you would never allow us to be anything more than friends.” He shook his head, hoping the demon wouldn’t interrupt him. “I was homeless, broken and alone. Can you really blame me for seeking affection where I could find it?”

Dean’s eyes remained green for a moment longer and sadness passed across his face before the demonic part took control again and the eyes shifted to black once more. He sneered and mocked Cas with crying noises.

“Poor fucking baby. You stayed with fucking _Sam_ when I told him I was leaving and he told me to just go. You took his side. Some fucking friend you are, _angel_ ,” Dean snarled.

Cas sighed, weary of the demon refusing to let go. “Dean, our entire relationship has been about you asking me to take care of Sam. He still needed healing after Gadreel left. Would you really have wanted me to leave him? He’s more important to you than anything else in the world. Of course I would stay to take care of him.”

Dean had no comeback for that. He glared and turned away, obviously having trouble keeping control of himself. Cas could tell he was having an effect, so he pressed on, even though it was getting harder and harder not to react to Dean’s angry words.

“Dean, your lack of faith in my love does not cause it not to exist. I have loved you for a long time. Since before I even knew what the feeling was. Your being a demon does not change that.” He let the truth show on his face and in his voice.

“Yeah? Then prove it. Kiss me again while my eyes are black,” Dean challenged. Looking at him now, Castiel could see that Dean’s soul was brighter and stronger than it had been. The blackness of evil did not have as strong a hold. He was actually _winning_.

Cas smiled benevolently at Dean. “Of course, Dean. Anything you wish.”

“And leave my arms free this time,” he added, smirking. “Love’s about trust, right?” Cas wanted to cringe at the way he said love, but he let it go.

“Fine,” was all he said.

He stepped close again. Before he could do anything at all, Dean grabbed him by the back of the neck and yanked him forward. Cas panicked for a moment, but Dean was truly only pulling him in for another kiss. The instant their lips met, Cas relaxed and let himself feel. He licked into Dean’s mouth this time before Dean had a chance to take control. His hands ran through Dean’s hair and massaged his jaw.

Having increased his awareness of his body again, he was quickly overcome by the passion of the kiss. He let himself get lost in the press of skin to skin and the taste and feel of Dean’s mouth on his own. It was unlike anything he’d ever known and he wanted more.

Dean was the first to break the kiss this time, asking Cas in a rough whisper, “You gonna let me fuck you, angel? Let me watch you fall apart under me?” His mouth moved to Cas’ neck without waiting for an answer.

“I’ll let you do whatever you want with me, Dean.” Dean’s head snapped up to look at Cas hungrily. “As soon as you give up being a demon.” Dean growled and shoved him away.

“Guess that love isn’t exactly unconditional, is it?” he said snidely.

“Of course it is. You’re a demon right now and I still love you. But the man I fell in love with had the brightest soul I’ve ever seen and that is the only version of you that I will have intercourse with.” Cas stepped back further from Dean because his body wanted to betray him. He wanted to grab Dean close again, kiss him until he could no longer resist the things Dean was offering.

Dean looked at him then, speculatively. “You want me, though,” he said wonderingly. “Right now. Even though I’m a demon, part of you really doesn’t care. I look like me and that’s all that matters to you.” He narrowed his black eyes. “Why are you really holding back, Cas? Huh? It ain’t coz you don’t want this. It ain’t how pretty my soul is. What is it? Why you holding back?”

There was honest curiosity in his tone and Cas found himself wanting to answer truthfully. Perhaps that was the best course, anyway. “Because you - the real you - will never forgive me if I sleep with the demonized version of you. The part of you that loves me back would be heartbroken if you weren’t fully present for the experience of having sex. You’re probably already upset that you had to take a backseat during our first two kisses,” Cas answered truthfully.

The eyes flashed green again, but quickly to black. Dean’s soul was now the brightest it had been since he had shown up a few days ago, but the demon side was holding fast.

“I have my grace back, as you mentioned. It was given to me by choice, so it will not burn out this time. I am an angel again.” He bit his lip and turned away for a moment. “If you ask me to give that up to be with you, I will.” His eyes went back to Dean. “If - and only if - you ask me as a human. I will give up what remains of Heaven and all my contact with my brothers and I will stay here on Earth with you, living a human life.”

Now Dean’s eyes looked like some sort of shutter. They were flashing back and forth between green and black so quickly Cas couldn’t even keep track. He realized his best chance was to have Sam destroy the blade while Dean was in this weakened condition. He texted him as much.

He didn’t get a response, so he had to trust that Sam could take care of it. He pressed forward on his own in the meantime.

“Dean, I’ve loved you since the first moment. I didn’t know what it was, but I felt it. Then as I got to know you better and better, that love has only grown. You were the righteous man and you taught me everything about life that I had failed to be able to understand in 2000 years.” He let out a laugh that was half-crazed. “Naomi was reprogramming me for _millennia_ , Dean. And yet the one constant that she could never erase was how I felt about you.”

Dean looked at him sharply, eyes a steady green now, though the blackness seemed to be fighting with his soul for dominance. His face was troubled, and he said, “Cas, help me.” Before Dean could say more, there was a bright flash that pulsed out from him in a circle and he cried out. He crumpled to the floor, the Mark now a dull gray instead of red.

Cas was at his side in an instant, cradling his head. “Dean? Dean. _Dean!_ ” He got no response, but Sam came running into the room.

“What happened? Is he all right? Can you fix him?”

In the heat of the moment, with all that had happened, Cas had literally almost forgotten his own angelic power. He used his grace to diagnose and heal Dean, noting as he did so that Dean’s soul seemed to be the only thing inside him now. The blackness was gone.

After a moment, Dean’s eyes fluttered open. He glanced at Cas before he saw his brother over his shoulder. “Sam? Shit, Sammy, I’m sorry -”

“Shut up, Dean. Are you all right now?” Sam asked, smiling hopefully.

“If you mean am I still a demon, then no. I’m a little weak, though. I think Cas is probably gonna have to help me up.” Green eyes met Castiel’s blue ones and Cas could see something new there.

“Of course, Dean.” He gently pulled Dean to his feet and wrapped an arm around him to hold him up until he could get his legs under him. “Can you walk?”

Dean nodded and took a few steps before staggering. Cas caught him and helped him steady. “Let me help you outside. You’ve been through quite an ordeal.”

Dean looked down at his feet as they walked out, turning to look back as they passed through the edge of the devil’s trap and out the door. “Nice to be able to walk through that thing again,” he said with a weak smile.

When they reached a chair, Cas helped Dean into it and then said, “You two should talk. I’ll be in the next room if you need me.” He heard no argument from either man, but he could feel their eyes on him as he walked out.

He stood on the other side of the doorway, tuning out so that he couldn’t hear what they said to one another. He sagged, wearier than he’d ever before been when at full power. His lengthy conversation with Dean had taken its toll. Cas had no way of knowing what would happen between them, now that Dean was no longer a demon. He was nervous.

Would Dean pretend nothing had happened between them? It wasn’t beyond the realm of possibility. He might be angry with Cas, in spite of what had come of it. There were so many negative possibilities and so few positive ones. Would Dean overcome his misgivings and let them have anything?

He was so caught up in his thoughts that he didn’t hear Sam approaching. He was pulled into a hug and squeezed tightly before he had a chance to react to Sam’s presence. Sam was crying and his voice was rough in Cas’ ear.

“Thanks for saving my brother, Cas. Thank you so much.” He squeezed once more and then released the angel, stepping back with a quick sniff and a smile. “I’m, uh, gonna go to bed. Pretty beat. Dean’s still back there. He wants to talk to you, I think.” Sam clapped him on the shoulder and then left, heading for his bedroom.

Cas walked slowly back into the room where Dean sat, staring down at his hands as they lay clasped between his knees. He didn’t look up until Cas was almost right beside him. Cas took the seat next to him, saying nothing. Cas couldn’t see his face, but Dean’s nose sounded stuffed up when he spoke, so Cas knew he’d been crying just like his brother.

“So, back there...did you mean all that stuff?” He still did not lift his eyes, but he kept talking before Cas could answer. “Do you...um...are you…” He seemed unable to say the words out loud now that he could no longer mock them as he had when he was a demon.

Cas gave him the words instead. “I love you, Dean. It was not a trick or a lie. If it had been, you would still be a demon right now.” He cleared his throat. “Cain told me that only true love could save you.”

Dean’s green eyes raised up then. “You were right you know about, uh, the, uh, the sex thing.” He dropped his gaze again. “I would have been really hurt.” He rubbed his nose and then told Cas, “I’m sorry about...everything. Everything I did that got me where I was, everything I said while I was a demon. I didn’t mean any of it.”

Cas reached out and put a hand on Dean’s knee. “I know, Dean. It’s all right. I don’t blame you for any of it. You’re here now and that’s all that matters to me.”

Dean glanced up again, his expression unreadable. “That’s _all_ that matters? So, if I said I wanted to forget all the things we said in there, go back to just being friends...you’d just be ok with that, as long as I’m alive now and not a demon?”

“Even if you said to me right now that you hated me and would never speak to me again, I would take you being alive and in the world over your soul being tortured and twisted into a demon.” He licked his lips. “And if you wish to forget everything, then we will.” He pulled his hand back. “It isn’t what I want, but I will do it, if it makes you happier than accepting what we have between us.”

“Cas, I -” Dean stopped mid-sentence. Then he shoved back his chair and stood up, grabbing Cas by the hand and hauling him to his feet. “Those other times don’t count,” he said, just before grabbing Cas and pulling him forward into a kiss that made the first two seem as though they were the weak imaginings from a dream.

He held Cas’ face in both his hands, thumbs rubbing his jaws softly as his mouth worked against the angel’s. His lips sucked and pressed for a long time before he ever started to use his tongue and teeth. From the moment it started, Cas felt himself light up from within. To paraphrase Hannah’s words about the horn of Gabriel, it felt familiar. It felt like home.

Cas kissed back for all he was worth, hands clutching at Dean’s jacket in desperation. When Dean pulled away, Cas whined and Dean’s laugh - his real laugh - rolled over them in a warm, welcome wave.

“Let’s go to my room, Cas. Not,” he added, holding up a hand when Cas stiffened. “Not for that, Cas. Not yet. I’m nowhere near ready for that, ok? I just...I want you next to me tonight. I know you don’t sleep, but…” Dean looked at him shyly and Cas understood what he was asking.

He smiled at Dean, not hiding how he felt. Dean smiled back, as happy as Cas could remember ever seeing him. “You can hold onto me while you sleep, Dean. I’ll watch over you.”

* * *

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I would like to hear our thoughts on this one. Sometimes I can gauge a piece and sometimes I can't and this one, I just can't. Still, I live for comments. Thanks as always for reading. Did I say thanks already for helping me to get published for real? If I did not, then thanks. Without your feedback and support over the past year, it never would have happened. ♥ I'll be announcing an author page on my Tumblr soon, so stayed tuned for that.


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